


Darkest Night: Vampire AU

by Flyingbirdietimmy



Category: Batman and Robin
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dragons, F/M, M/M, Vampires, mythical beasts, no superpowers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2019-01-30 01:30:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12643386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flyingbirdietimmy/pseuds/Flyingbirdietimmy
Summary: A vampire lives alone in the ruins of what used to be Gotham, and a nosy adventurer goes to investigate what happened to the city.





	1. Introduction

Long ago, the days of old sang into reality the monsters that people today have romanticized. Fiercesome dragons hailed from heaven bound mountain peeks, their maws lined with jagged teeth large enough to service as a sword. Goblins ran amuck with gleeful cackles. Werewolves prowled the moonlit nights, casting their mournful howls among the stars. 

Of all these creatures there was one that rose above all others. Vampires were a distinguished breed, and the very paramount of inhuman society. Their skin was pale and survival was not based on how much air one could take in. They were the shapeshifters, walkers of the night, and those that hungered for the blood of the living. Both savage and regal, which powers that evolved with every terror ridden tale. But they were just tales right?

In truth, there was more reality to those stories than most people would prefer to believe. The unfortunate consequence was there was such convolution to those tales, that the real truth takes on an entirely new meaning. For the sake of humanity’s sanity, I will tell you a tale. It’s not the entire truth, nor is it completely composed of lies, but others like me will understand the truth. Let us begin...

In the days of Gotham’s glorious golden days, it was a city rich with both prosperity and criminal activity. The brave of heart flocked to the city to seek out fortune among the ranks of corrupt enterprises, while the other criminal sort made easy pickings of the lesser who walked the streets alone. 

Among the ranks of the living, my father hid in the most unlikely of places, straight in the limelight as Gotham’s elite playboy. He donned a mask that replicated the flow of blood beneath the surface, and if anyone questioned why his hands were so cold, he simply laughed it off, making jokes about how they must be made of ice. To the women who found themselves caught in his bed, he could simply adjust their memory. He was as clever a vampire as could possibly be, a trait that I came to envy as I grew old enough to appreciate it’s value. However, he assured me I was just as capable as he when it came to acts of intellect. He envied my passion and heart, for though I appeared quite cold as a human, my vampire acquaintances were by comparison monstrous beings devoid of any emotion, but they could certainly act like they had them. Something about that always made me feel ill, like a twisting feeling in my gut that almost resembled guilt or disgust. 

My mother was a vampire who exhibited this, though I truly believe she loved my father. He was one of the most powerful of our kind, and vampires do indeed possess an intense lust for power. My mother was no different. Using trickery she lured my father to bed, then made off before dawn, carrying within her his seed. In doing so, she united two of the most powerful vampire lines. 

My grandfather was growing old and ill, despite a vampire's immunity to time. A curse he had never been able to remove required he bathe in the Lazarus waters once a month to preserve his youth. As time progressed, he was required to do so more frequently, but the unfortunate truth of the matter was, his body was growing immune to it's effects, and he would be the first of our kind to pass in a semblance of natural death. 

It was expected that I would take on his role after he passed. I had been trained since my birth and instilled with his visions of grandeur. With my mother to guide me, the intent was to rule the world from the shadows once we had amassed a large enough army. It was a combination of living and nonliving. We had turned many a poor soul and taken away their right to free will, and others somehow learned of our cause and joined of their own volition. To those we offered great power, as long as they remained faithful to us. There were very few cases where they proved themselves unworthy. 

The things I had to do were horrid. I would have reoccurring nightmares filled with the faces of my victims. Every time I did something that pleased my mother or grandfather, it felt like I was losing a piece of my soul, assuming I had one. I always thought I did, though I was repeatedly informed otherwise. I could never stand the thought. Perhaps I wasn't human, but I did so wish to be. Their lives were beautiful and short. I believe the time was what made them so beautiful... they loved passionately, fought valiantly, and just had this certain something that other vampires didn't. I can't rightly explain it, but my best attempt would be.. when listening to a vampire sing, their tone is always perfect. They never make mistakes, and there is never a need to breathe. They can carry a note forever, or insert a perfectly timed breath, and there can be no denying the beauty of it, but there is something glorious about the imperfections of mankind. 

I'll admit, they have always been a particular weakness of mine. But I also know the danger they pose. For as sweet as they can be, they are also foul. Within their own kind, they rape, murder, cheat, and lie, some with the same coolness as a vampire. That isn't the biggest danger though. What really makes them a threat, is both their curiosity and fear of the unknown. Even if we vampires were to present ourselves and explain exactly what we do and who we are, there is too much they simply couldn't grasp without the centuries of knowledge my kind has. For this purpose, my kind remains hidden from the masses. We walk among you, but you'll never know who we are.


	2. Batfam

The boy let out a heavy sigh, his head drooping with every subsequent second. Beside him, his broad shouldered father tapped away at his keyboard, ignoring the bored adolescent. His initial sigh hadn't been obvious enough, so he sighed again, louder and much more exaggerated, this one finally drawing his father’s steady blue eyes, something Jon had inherited from him. “Yes…?” 

Jon sat up straight, perking in a way that resembled an excited puppy. “Can we go now?”

“Jon..” his father began, in a tone that signalled Jon was about to be terribly disappointed. “I told you our plans were tentative. This article needs to be finished by Monday, and one of my coworkers called about an emergency meeting. I can't this weekend…”

Jon sat back with such force that his chair rocked back a bit. “This is the third time in a row, Dad. You promised you would take me!”

The elder man’s eyes drifted to the mahogany table, still dented from the time Jon had accidentally slammed a mug on it. “I know I did.. but.. you don't have to wait for me. This is something special for you anyways. An 18th birthday only comes once, and it's been your dream and passion. I would have loved to do this with you, but I think you'll enjoy this experience just as well without me.” He smiled lightly, meeting Jon’s eyes once more. 

Jon tapped his chin, giving serious consideration to the thought. “I would rather do it with you, but if you keep stalling the weather will make it difficult.. “ he let out a resigned sigh. “Okay. I will go to Gotham myself and see if I can discover the reason for its destruction…”

His father grinned and ruffled his hair, igniting a protest from the young adventurer. “Daaaad!”

Neither knew the extent of the danger Jon would be putting himself in, or perhaps they would have called off his trip. 

~~~

It was by unspoken agreement that no one ever went to Gotham, nor was the name mentioned. No one knew how it came to be so dilapidated, only that the wreckage was devastating, and there was no point in trying to rebuild it. Anyone who ventured there either never came back, or never fully returned, or so it was rumoured. I know, because I helped start those rumours. 

There were reasons Gotham had to be destroyed, none of which is any business of any human, but to sate your curiosity it had to do with a silver spoon, an enigmatic girl, and a very precious azure stone. In the end, there was nothing left, and the refugees were left with nothing but a strong impression never to come back. I have no desire to relive that time in my head. I lost more than most, among those my adoptive brother and father. Though I hadn't gotten along well with my brother, his death was still a harsh lash that could not be healed over any period of time, and the loss of my father proved to be a grievous and crippling wound, the likes of which I shan't ever fully recover from…

In the Gotham area, I am the only one to exist. No one has set foot on in the city itself for over three decades, and it shows with the wild and resilient shrubbery that conceals the city. The manor where I reside is surrounded by dark and shrivelled trees, overrun by creatures that creep and crawl. The manor itself borders on castle. The air is musty, the drapes shredded and thick, blocking out any light, and then I wander as a sort of ghost. 

Vampires have no need of rest when they reach a mature state. Their bodies are restored through the use of blood, or a similar supplement. I chose to sleep partly out of habit, but also because it helps pass time. My life is a lonely one, and I can't help but dread the future, knowing I'm cursed to remain here for good, or until someone kills me. To pass the time away, I've taken to painting. The gentle repetition is soothing, and there is something oddly satisfying about watching the strokes merge together to form some sort of image. Whenever I am not aimlessly wandering or sleeping, I am painting. 

There was a time when this home of mine was bright and lively. Endearingly, someone among us had coined the term “Batfamily” though weren't all bats or vampires. Our identities were hidden from the human race, but among the fantastical creatures pulled from myth we were quite popular. 

Grayson, Dick Grayson to be precise, was my favourite. He was half imp, half human, as the unlikely testimony of cross species romance. His parents had both taken to life at the circus, and so had he until they were murdered. The exact reasons aren't quite certain, but it's highly likely someone found out their secret, especially as their son had odd pointed ears. He was playful and sweet, but when the time came for it, he could act in a serious manner. It was ultimately he that made me want to stay on at Wayne Manor rather than return to my awaiting kingdom. 

Barbara Gordon was actually human, but whatever ran in his parents got passed down to Grayson, and he fell head over heels in love with her. He would follow her around, and she pretended she didn't notice for months, but one day she managed to catch and corner him. She could tell he wasn't quite human instantly, but she vowed to keep his secret, and one day she was introduced to the rest of us. Time and again she proved herself with her exceptional technology skills which made us wonder how we ever got along without her in the first place. 

Jason Todd was a werewolf. In truth, he was a complete asshole, but a lovable one. His appearance was always scruffy at best, but that was exactly the way he wanted to present himself. He was confident to a fault, but had the most boisterous and contagious laugh. To put it in his words… he didn't give a shit if he offended anyone. He came to take us on as his pack after receiving great mercy from father, because for as stubborn as he was, he just couldn't figure out why a vampire had spared him after his gang had almost ripped him apart, after all immortality was both a vampire’s most precious gift and curse. 

I hated Tim Drake. He was descended from a nearly pure bloodline of vampires. Apparently, one of his great grandparents somewhere along the line had fallen in love with a dragon. The clan that the dragon belonged to brutally killed their renegade, and the vampires hurriedly concealed the mishap by forcing arranged marriages with pure vampires on all their children and great grandchildren. Still, the dragon blood flowed through him. There were telltale teardrop scales beside his eyes that glittered blue, and his eyes had a cold fire to them. Dragon intellect was fabled to be legendary, surpassing even that of vampires, so it was no surprise that he was even smarter than father. When his parents were murdered by zealous dragons, my father adopted him. I pretended to hate him because he was part dragon, but the truth was I always felt father favoured him more than I. It made me jealous, and I stooped to pettiness because of it. I regret that now. 

Shortly after I had arrived, Tim started getting frequently attacked by all these animals. He would return to the manor, fuming and covered in scratches and bite marks. We later discovered this had all be Stephanie Brown, who was upset with Tim for reasons unknown to me. Perhaps he stepped on her tail in cat for or something. Either way, she was a shapeshifter. She was also probably my second favourite among the people of the Batclan. She relentlessly teased everyone, and though no one had formally invited her in, she quickly became one of us. Her favourite form was human, and that is probably what sparked my initial interest in your kind. She was so terribly flawed and human.. and I loved it. At one point I might have even developed a crush on her, but her quick attraction to Drake was repulsive. It wasn't even until a month after I met her that they started dating, but I had to admit, they complimented each other fairly well, though I was older than she was, my maturity hadn't been quite there yet. 

Cassandra Cain was a surprise addition to our odd family. She was mute, and human, but she could read people like a book. She saw my father walking one day, and knew immediately that he was a vampire. That same day she followed him home. He wiped her memories and sent her out again, but this process repeated until he finally gave up. He grew to adore her and lavished her with attention I'd never be able to win. I'm sure at times even Drake grew a little jealous of their close bond. She wanted so desperately to become a vampire like us, and my father adamantly refused at first, but he could never refuse her anything, and eventually she was turned. 

There were others of course, but those were the ones to have an instrumental impact on my life. I miss them all dearly, and if I could reverse the clock, things might not have had to take such a tragic turn.


End file.
